


The Life That I Have Is Yours

by lidiamartini



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Road Trip, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lidiamartini/pseuds/lidiamartini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both pretend they do it to save the money. It's a perfectly reasonable explanation.<br/>AKA the fic where Bucky and Steve pretend to be married to get the family discounts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New World

**Author's Note:**

> yo so if anyone would be interested in proof reading new chapters, message me and i'll send you the new chapter a couple days before I plan on posting it.

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are not big spenders. Some call it being old fashioned. “You have all the money in the world, now!” they would say. “Spend a little on yourselves now and again!” Steve and Bucky called their tendencies just good ol’ common sense. For now, we’ll call it force of habit. Call it what you will, but they won’t change anytime soon.  
Because of this, the two naturally look for ways to save money left and right. It didn’t matter that they could easily bathe themselves in pure gold if they really truly wished. They had lived like this for their whole lives, and it had only served them well.   
They could both agree that one of the best inventions they’ve yet to see beat is the coupon. Because hell yeah, they’re going to take the free coke. There was no shame in pulling out fifteen coupons at the grocery store. If the people behind them stared as Steve shuffled through a long sheet of coupons while trying to find the one for the $2 off the odd brand of milk, well, Bucky would make them cast their gazes down with a quick glare, easy-peasy. 

Bucky’s therapist advised that he go out and experience the world in his own way to help him adjust to the new world. When he was almost 100% sure that Bucky couldn’t be triggered into a mad killing spree at hearing a car honk its horn, Steve took matters into his own hands.   
“A road trip.”  
“It’ll be great; your shrink said it’ll help if you can see the world, help acclimate yourself to the 21st century. I got Tony to let us borrow a car. Did you know that they can run on electricity now?”  
Bucky snorted, “Good thing, too. It’s insane- I saw the gas prices a couple of days ago. $1.25 per gallon. With a dollar twenty five in 1940 I could’ve fed us both for days straight and they expect me to pay that for just a gallon of oil?”  
Secretly, Steve was relieved to see that Bucky was taking it as a joke. There had been many times when Bucky was brought the the edge of a panic attack just from seeing the overpriced food in the supermarket. It had started with Steve making a stupid joke. Stupid Steve, never thinking of others before letting his mouth run away with him. He doesn’t even remember what he said, but one look at the numbers on the food made Bucky tense up immediately.   
“When we were kids, people saved butter for special occasions. There are still families that can’t even feed their children every night, and these people feel the need to charge them six dollars for a bottle of mustard?” He had started to shake, and Steve quickly moved closer, attempting to placate him. They really couldn’t afford to have a scene in the middle of the grocery store. The pair had just been cleared to go out on their own; they didn’t need S.H.I.E.L.D. breathing down their necks again. They could handle it.   
Steve gripped Bucky’s sleeve and looked into his eyes, their faces inches away. Unfortunately, this only worried Bucky more.   
“What are you doing?!”  
Steve, startled, took a step back. “What do you mean?”  
Bucky nervously scanned the store, his eyes shifting as his breathing quickened. He looked at the faces around them, seemingly looking for some reaction from them.   
“You can’t do that here! People are gonna assume . . .” It took Steve a moment to understand what Bucky was getting at, and remembered what he had thought when he first surfaced. In their time, showing affection for another mad was cause for a beating. If Bucky hadn’t seen that it was acceptable in today’s society, then that meant that he was seriously worried that someone was going to sock him in the jaw in the middle of Safeway. Quickly, Steve took a step back. This had the desired effect of calming Bucky just a fraction.   
“But really,” Bucky said, not one to brush around the bush, “how do they expect families to cough up the money necessary to feed their kids when they’re making it damn near impossible? There are . . . there are little kids starving and yet these greedy, fat, cats keep bumping up the prices!” His voice was rising at a steady pace, and frankly, Steve was worried they were causing a scene.  
“Buck, look at me.”  
Wide eyes and heavy breathing.  
“Bucky, people are more generous now. The government gives food stamps to families that really can’t provide for themselves. Remember food banks? They have more funding now; we could go in every single day and not a word would be said. There are ways for parents to help their families.”  
Hands going slack from the fists.   
“We didn’t fight for nothing, Bucky. We didn’t sacrifice our lives in vain. We all made a difference. We gave the country freedom. People like you helped the country and you made a difference. Sure, the government is still greedy, but it’s getting better every day. You helped all the kids that couldn’t afford anything by aiding in the war effort.” Even if Bucky wasn’t saying it, Steve knew what Bucky was thinking right now. He was thinking of the small Steve. The Steve that could barely make it through the winter some years. The Steve that Bucky cared for even if it made life harder for the healthier boy. Bucky couldn’t stand seeing others suffering. He spent long nights working so that he could provide for his best friend. Sometimes, when Steve wasn’t looking, Bucky would scrape off some of his food onto Steve’s plate. The kid deserved it more than him, anyway. There was no one in the world Bucky would rather have as a best friend. Sometimes, when he prayed at night, Bucky would tell God how Steve is gonna be the best angel in Heaven. Bucky could only hope that Steve would put in a good word for him to the Big Guy. God knows he’s going to hell otherwise. 

When they both got home, Steve gave Bucky an hour before breaching the topic of marriage equality.   
“Hey, Buck? You know how equality is a lot different now? Blacks aren’t segregated, women aren’t thought of as inferior?”  
At these words, Bucky broke out into a rare grin. “Yeah, I know. One thing this country hasn’t screwed to hell is equality.”  
“Exactly. And another thing is that . . . it’s not bad for two guys to get together, or two dames. In most states they can even get married,” Steve said slowly. After a moment, Bucky shook his head like he was trying to clear some cobwebs.   
“You mean that at the supermarket, no one would’ve said a thing?”  
“Not a soul.”  
Neither of them spoke for a minute or two, until Bucky quietly said, “Ya know, Steve?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I’m proud of our country.”  
And that was something everyone could use a little more of. 

About a week after this incident, the two were window-shopping in the streets of New York City. Not buying, but just enjoying all the new sights as they wandered. When they were passing a fountain, Steve felt a presence move closer to him until his shoulder was brushing Bucky’s arm. In one fluid movement and without a single word, Bucky slipped his hand into Steve’s. When Steve gave him an odd look, Bucky simply gave him a shrug and a, “What’s the use of coming back to the new age if you’re not gonna take all the opportunities? If I can hold my best friend’s hand in public without getting into a fist fight, then you better believe I’m gonna do it.”  
And Steve smiled. 

Considering all of their previous experiences, it only seemed logical at the time to take the family discount. When they were checking in at the first hotel for their road trip, the woman approached them with a sorry look on her face.   
“This normally doesn’t happen, but your room is no longer available. However, are you two married? We do have a room open with a king sized bed, and we could offer the family discount for the inconvenience. The prices of one bed rooms are generally lower, considering the fact that we only need to provide sheets and such for one.” she provided with a hopeful tone in her voice.  
To Steve’s surprise, it was Bucky that spoke first.   
“My husband and I would love that, thank you, miss,” he said, grabbing Steve’s hand for good measure. The combination of the words “my husband” and the hand holding sent a jittery, pleasant shock through Steve’s system. He wanted to stop what they were doing and kiss him silly, but somehow restrained himself.  
Steve had a lot of experience with holding back his emotions. Growing up in a world where not a single girl would look at you was hard, but growing up queer in a homophobic world was harder. Because of the previous dilemma, he couldn’t even date a few girls as a coverup. Steve had more than his fair share of beatings in dark alleys after being called accusatory names.   
When they finally got up to their room and started to retire for the night, they both thought nothing of the fact that they were climbing into the same bed. It was almost like being back home in Brooklyn in their little apartment they could barely afford, listening to the wind howling and making the windows shutter. Back then, the only logical choice was to share a bed. Steve couldn’t survive without the little extra body heat, and neither of them could pay for their own room. Now, with Bucky curled behind him with his nose buried in Steve’s neck, his breathing slowing as he drifted off to sleep, Steve was reminded that he was well and truly in love. 

So, for the rest of the trip, they continued like this. Always the, “‘Actually, me and my husband would like the one bed suite, please.” Always the hand hold. Always the lowered price, which is what they both pretended they did it for. It was at the last hotel that Steve decided to change up the routine. In the place of hand-holding, Steve gave Bucky a quick kiss on the lips, right there in the lobby, and when he pulled back, no one was getting ready for a fight. When he pulled back, neither of them had to try too hard to look like they were in love.


	2. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they make an honest mistake and Steve catches a break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the feedback on the last chapter- I really tried to make this more of a story and less of an outline, which was a really helpful piece of advice.
> 
> ~i'm alabaema on tumblr~

It took Bucky a little while to warm up to the idea of joining the Avenger. Or, really, anything related to S.H.I.E.L.D.   
The first month was the hardest, predictably. The man was kept in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters 24/7 to ensure that nothing was going to set him off in the real world.   
“Sir, I’m afraid that’s all the information we can give you on Mr. Barnes’ current state. Director Fury has given strict instruction on what can and cannot be told to the public,” the guard told Steve mechanically, like he had practiced those exact words multiple times. They both stood outside a metal door in a sterile white hallway some twenty stories below ground. Somewhere behind that door was Bucky. Cold, alone, and haunted, no doubt. He had gone through hell and back, and though the doctors were trying their best to rid his mind of the Winter Soldier. Before going on with Project Save Bucky, Fury had consulted Steve.  
“We’re not even completely sure that there will be anything left to save, Cap. Sergeant Barnes may be in there, but it’s more likely that they sliced him up and threw him back in in a random order. While all the pieces are there, they’re broken and bleeding and raw and frankly, the recovery of his memory may make him go insane regardless.”  
“I understand, sir,” Steve said. “However, you implied that there is a chance we can recover the real Bucky behind the Winter Soldier. I know he’s there. Back on the bridge, there was enough of him to save me. Even if we can only help him a little bit, it’s worth it. I already saw him die once. I don’t want to lost my best friend again,” Steve said determinedly.   
Fury leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, now eye-to-eye with Steve. They looked at each other for a minute, before the Director let out a sigh. He sunk back into the chair and rubbed his hand down his face, admitting defeat.   
“You really think this boy can be saved?”  
“I know he can be saved.”

After the first month, Steve was granted the privilege of seeing Bucky through one way glass.   
It almost tore him apart.  
Bucky was pacing the room like a caged animal, his eyes flickering back and forth as he prowled the small dormitory. In one corner was a sink without a mirror. When Steve took a closer look at the ground, he could still see one last shard of a mirror Bucky had apparently shattered. After that incident, Steve was sure S.H.I.E.L.D. would not be replacing it any time soon.   
Bucky’s hair had grown past his shoulders, greasy and almost matted. Steve strongly suspected Bucky would not let anyone come near him with scissors, at least not so soon. All in due time. There were dark purple circles underneath his eyes, which only strengthened Steve’s desire to get him out of this place. The bags by his eyes showed his pale complexion by a shocking comparison. His cheeks were hollow and his skin almost translucent. Maybe the worst part of all was his shoulder.   
It’s common for people with missing limbs to experience “ghost pain” in the limb where they lost. Bucky was an extreme example of the ones that felt an itch on an arm, a leg they couldn’t scratch anymore because it simply wasn’t there. The area around were his skin was melded to the metal was scratched and bloody, and one look at Bucky’s right arm showed that he had done this to himself. In a frenzied attempt to rid himself of his past, Bucky had scratched his arm until it bled, frantically trying to take off the arm and all the memories it brought. Maybe if he scratched hard enough the blood on his hands would fall off with the metal. Apparently, the guilt Fury had warned him about before starting to recover Bucky’s memories was already starting to settle in.  
It made Steve feel sick to his stomach. And there was nothing he could do; his friend was sitting just beyond reach, desperately needing Steve’s help, yet all he could do was look.   
When he prayed to God about his concerns, he laughed just a little at how despite seeing aliens and gods and demigods, he still somehow believed in one true God. Bucky, if he were here right now, would surely tease him a little, but would let up after a while, knowing how much it meant to Steve. Between the two of them, it was always Steve that dragged Bucky to church every Sunday. Bucky, when praying at night, knew that singing on Sunday wouldn’t save his soul. All he could hope for was for God to bring him in, too, if for nothing but to look after Steve in the afterlife.   
Back in 2014, Steve prayed for Bucky. Not for his soul, for he had complete faith that Bucky was going to heaven. Anyone that cared so much for a person with so little had to have a heart of gold, even if they didn’t wear it on their sleeve. So no, he didn’t pray for Bucky’s soul. He prayed for his mind, for health and happiness. He prayed that Bucky would find himself again in the midst of all the rubble in his head.   
In the fourth month, things really started to look up. The doctors had somehow pieced together what they could of Bucky, and for Steve, that was enough. Once more he stood outside of the metal door in the white hallway, and with a deep breath and hope on his mind, quietly knocked on the door.  
“Come on in,” called a voice that Steve loved so much he almost started crying right there, but no, you idiot, he’s not dead. You don’t have to hoard every moment with him because he’s right on the other side of that door. Gathering his courage, Steve swung open the door, readying himself for the worst.   
While Bucky still didn’t look completely healthy, some color had returned to his cheeks, and his hair had been cut, freeing Bucky from the mop of dirty locks around his neck all the time. When Bucky looked up and saw Steve, he smiled that smile Steve never thought he would see again while he was alive, and with one sentence, relieved Steve of months of worry. In the Brooklyn accent that he grew up hearing, Bucky said, “The 21st century sure is crazy, huh?”  
Steve’s whole body visibly relaxed, and with a tentative step forward, he reached out to hug Bucky, waiting for him to come closer because even if Bucky seemed better, Steve didn’t want to scare him and ruin the delicate peace they had. Slowly, Bucky steeped into Steve’s arms, and hugged him like the world was ending. He bundled him hands in Steve’s shirt and buried his nose in the crook of his neck, both fighting back tears as they held the person they never expected to see again.  
“I missed you, punk.”  
“Jerk.”

After much pleading with Director Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D., Bucky and Steve were finally able to get their own apartment about six months after Bucky was considered “fully recovered”. In the half year, they had mostly been staying at the Avengers Tower, but Bucky became too easily alarmed by the loud noises and sudden changes that come with living in a house full of super heroes. It overwhelmed him, and more than once sent him into a full on panic attack where he reached for weapons that weren’t there and pulled at his hair as the memories flooded his mind.   
But it was good for Bucky to get out of that cramped house. Bucky and Steve’s rooms were directly across the hall from each other, and on more than once occasion Bucky could be seen wandering into Steve’s room after a nightmare and curling up around his friend. Not a word was said, and Steve would just let out a long, content sigh as he was taken back to the years when they would do this every night.  
Every morning, Steve would get up at the crack of dawn to go for a run, and by the time he got back, there was usually still time for him to make breakfast for both him and Bucky before he woke up. But today was different. Today, when Steve unlocked the door to the apartment and walked into the kitchen, Bucky was already sitting at the breakfast table, uncomfortably looking at his hands like he knew what he was about to say wouldn’t be easy.   
“Buck? You alright?”  
A pregnant pause.  
“I’ve decided something,” Bucky said. Without waiting for Steve to ask, he plowed forward. “I want to join S.H.I.E.L.D.. Not lots of combat, but I want to be able to help, ya know? Last month, when you were all out almost getting killed . . . I felt useless.” At this, Bucky lifted his head and looked straight at Steve. “I never want to feel like that again.”  
Thirty days ago, the Avengers had been called into action while Bucky had been forced to stay at home. He was kept in the dark all day, was never told what the mission was about. Hell, the whole time he didn’t even know if they were alive. Steve had told him not to worry. It was a simple mission, he said. But when they were out for a day and a half longer than anticipated, Bucky had started to panic. And so, after a month of thoroughly debating the pros and cons of joining S.H.I.E.L.D., Bucky had made his decision. Maybe he wouldn’t start as an Avenger right away. No, they could all agree that jumping right back into battle probably wasn’t the best move. But simple missions against low-rate villains? That Bucky could do.  
As a starter, S.H.I.E.L.D. decided to send Bucky with Steve to a small town in Northern California to scope out a man they believed to be an illegal arms dealer. So, without even thinking, when they arrived at the hotel, their first question was, “Actually, we were looking for the one bedroom suite, please.” After the hotel concierge confirmed with their names, a woman in the lobby spoke up.  
“Oh, you two must be the family of Phil, right? Phil Coulson? We thought you two were brothers; I’ll have to tell everyone about the mix up,” she laughed good naturedly with a wave of her hand.   
“Steve and James, yes? Lemme guess. James?” She asked, pointing to Steve. When he shook his head slightly and smiled, she pointed back to Bucky.   
“James!”  
“There we go!” Bucky said, laughing.   
“And so you must be Steve. It’s a pleasure to meet you two. We all love your uncle. Whose uncle is he?”  
Shit. Neither of them had anticipated the consequences of asking for the cheaper room. They would have to make up a background for themselves later. Luckily, Bucky was the first to unfreeze and break the awkward silence.   
“Mine. Can’t you see the family resemblance?”  
At this, the woman, who then introduced herself as Felicite Carrol, let them move on up to their room, after explaining that she was in the lobby to meet with her sister who was also coming down this weekend.   
“I don’t know why she refused to stay at my house,” she said with a shrug. “We were great friends growing up. Though personally,” Felicite said in a whisper as she leaned closer, “I think it’s because she has a man a night. Doesn’t want me catching them in the act.” With that, she waved them along with a promise to see them later.   
When they got back up to their room, Bucky had an odd look on his face.   
“Did it bug you how she was talking about her sister? Even if they are family, it’s not really anyone’s business. Guys congratulate each other for ‘getting the girl’ and then girls are put down for doing the same thing.”  
Steve also looked like he had a bad smell just under his nose. “Nothing’s changed, huh? Girls are being slammed for tanning with their shirts off ‘in public’, when to get the picture, some perv had to scale a ten foot fence and look into her backyard. Privacy isn’t really important to people these days. It kinda freaks me out, ya know? Natasha once told me that an interviewer asked her what kind of underwear she used in the Black Widow suit. She’s risking her life trying to save these people and instead of thanking her for sticking her neck out every day when she’s just a human like all of them, they ask shit like this,” Steve said with a sigh.   
They both collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling.   
Steve couldn’t help thinking of how Peggy would have dealt with this. God, she dealt with a lot of crap. More people could learn from her. Slowly, he had come to terms with the fact that he would never get his second chance with her. When he woke up, he was raw and torn up from the loss of his best friend, Bucky, and lover, Peggy. But now, looking to his left and seeing the man beside him on the bed, he thought that maybe, even if he didn't have a second shot with Peggy, her equal was sitting right within reach. The only thing that Peggy had wanted from Steve was for him to be happy. And really, she wouldn't have wanted him to mope over her loss. Steve learned to move on, and because of this, he found his second chance. Because even if Steve wasn’t a highly metaphysical man (sure, he knew that God was real, but fate? That could just be coincidence) , he knew that when the stars worked this hard, it had to mean something.


	3. Domesticality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they grow strangely fond of the suspects

In the morning, their feet were tangled in various loose sheets as they clung to each other. Sunlight streamed in through the window of the large suite and lit up the pair in the bed. Bucky woke first, taking in a deep breath and attempting to cling to sleep for just a bit longer as he rested next to Steve. He looks peaceful when he sleeps, Bucky thought. Right now, he's not tormented by the weight of holding the world. Sometimes Bucky wonders how he does it. Steve flawlessly keeps up the whole charade without a blemish. Though Bucky supposed it's because it's not a charade; Steve is naturally the wonder man that is Captain America. Even as a weak, handicapped, asthmatic, Steve was everything Bucky wanted to be. Brave when no one was looking. Kind to everyone no matter how much they didn't deserve it. Hell, once, Steve had offered to take some guy to lunch when he had been beaten in an alley by the same man just a week earlier. Now, he received an identical treatment after the proposition left his mouth, but that was beside the point. Becoming Captain America had just showed the world everything Bucky already knew. And it killed him every day how jealous he was that other people saw this side of Steve, too. It was horrible, sure, that Bucky got so worked up about the fact that everyone knew Steve had a heart of gold, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. Where were all these people back in 1940 when they really needed it? Did they only care about Steve once he got a fresh coat of paint? 

It made Bucky furious that no one else appreciated Steve for Steve. No one could truly look past the surface and see the guy that deserved everything, but got nothing. No one could see the man that took on six other gang members because they were harassing a woman in the street, the man that spent the money he had been saving up for three months on getting the little kid the teddy bear they wanted but couldn't afford. 

Before Bucky could dwell on it much longer, Steve shifted his feet and quietly mumbled, "I can hear you thinking. Shut up. Think later. Sleep now."

Bucky let out a couple quiet laughs before carding his hands through Steve's hair and finally, painfully, getting out of bed. 

At the burst of cold from the blankets being moved and the lack of Bucky, Steve let out a groan and threw his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. Leaving Steve to wake up at his own pace, Bucky explored the room on his way to the shower.

Imagine something Stark would think of as acceptable, and then tone it down just a little. Not that much. Like, 0.4% behind Stark. S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't screw around. They purposely chose a high end hotel because they were less likely to stand out. It's no secret that rich people have many. Because of this, no one would think it's weird that Bucky and Steve lock the safe in their room with three locks, and that the computer doesn't actually look like something that's come out yet. 

They have a small work station set up in one corner on the desk with various computers and video monitors set up to surveillance cameras around the main suspect's home. 

His name was Rodney Jacobs, and the man reeked of false cheer. He was a pudgy man with a large beer-belly, and small, beady eyes set close together on his face.Perhaps his eyes just seemed particularly small compared to the wide expanse of his stomach and neck (or really lack of). Whatever it was, Bucky was immediately on edge as soon as he saw his profile. 

The cold water shocked him out of his sleep induced reverie, and Bucky quickly moved to turn up the heat. For their own personal reasons, both Bucky and Steve can’t stand the cold anymore. And besides, if they don’t have to suffer through the cold New York nights any more, they aren’t going to. Whenever Bucky looked at the news, he saw himself and Steve. He saw homeless families huddled together to block out the cold. He saw poverty slowly strangling America’s lower class. It’s iron grip tore thousands of people away from their home and away from hope, widening the gap between the rich and the poor even more. Seeing that these problems were still going on today felt like being punched in the gut after being dunked in arctic water, all the while dropping at an alarming rate from the sky and plummeting to the fast-approaching ground below. It sounds a bit dramatic, but this is what Bucky fought for. He fought for the freedom of America, and seventy years later, this is what he died for. This is what Steve sacrificed himself for.

Steve.

Steve is America’s beacon. The ray of light shining through the rubble that the people in this country counted on. And he was right in the other room. Like his ears had been ringing to alert him that someone had been thinking of him, Steve knocked on the door and called out in a voice still hoarse from sleep. 

“Bucky, hurry up. We have to get to Coulson’s in an hour and I still gotta take a shower.”

At this, Bucky turned off the shower and quickly dried himself off, tying the towel around his waist after. He swung open the door and came face-to-face with Steve who looked pretty pathetic for the person that was supposed to save the world. His hair was a mess and there were pillow marks on one side of his face. His eyelids were slowly closing and then opening with a start as he realized he was falling asleep standing up. Repeat. With a short snort of laughter, Bucky stepped aside to let Steve into the bathroom. When he shuffled in past Bucky he murmured a small noise of thanks. 

Bucky walked back into their bedroom, and got ready for the day. One thing he will say about the 21st century is that their clothes kind of suck. Now, he fully appreciated that the latest fashion trends all were considerably less modest than 1942, but god, at what cost? However, out of everything Bucky has had the misfortune of trying on, skinny jeans were the worst. They weren’t natural.

(Though they are kind of nice on Steve.)

. . .

Steve and Bucky pulled up to Coulson’s “house” in a taxi they had pulled up and took in the view. Essentially, they were to tell everyone that they were helping their “Uncle Phil” move into his new house, and, along the way, looking for a house of their own. While Agent Coulson wasn’t needed for the entire duration of the mission, his participation helped their story along. He also already had connections around the town, and was to help them gain the locals’ trust which would hopefully end with the capture of Mr. Jacobs.

The two walked up the his front porch, and immediately after ringing the doorbell, were pulled inside and bombarded with questions and happy handshakes and smiles. Felicite Carroll was the first to get the full attention of the crowd plus the newcomers. 

“Everyone, these are the two I was telling you all about. Steve and Bucky Buchanan,” she said, pointing to them when she said their respective names. “Bucky is Phil’s nephew.” At the mention of Phil, the room was filled with happy cheers and laughter. Apparently Coulson has already made a home for himself in this small group of people. 

“They’re both here to help Phil move in, but he said that you’d be here for upwards of a month, yes?” She said, raising an eyebrow and turning to Bucky and Steve for confirmation.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Though we didn’t realize there would be such a warm welcome! I feel like a celebrity.”

There was lots of laughter, and just like that, Steve had everyone charmed. He is such a liar when he insists that Bucky is the one good with people.

Everyone took this as their cue to go back to their previous conversations, and to start some up with Bucky and Steve. When asked questions like, “How did you meet?”, they were immediately grateful that they took the time on the car ride over to figure out their story. As far as anyone else knew, they were both ex-soldiers, trying to hide their love before it became legal for two men to be together in the military. While Bucky had teased Steve about how much of a romantic he was when he proposed the idea, he knew that he would be able to play the part perfectly. Bucky, after all, had been in a very similar situation not too long ago. But Steve didn’t need to know that.

They also agreed on a bit of PDA to disperse any suspicion surrounding their “marriage”. After all, they were supposed to be newlyweds, still in the honeymoon phase. During the apparent housewarming party for Phil, (they wished he had told them he was having a party), they put their work to the test.

When they finished telling their story to the couple in front of them, Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and kissed him on the mouth, short and sweet. It took Bucky a moment to register what was happening, but he quickly wrapped his arms around Steve’s torso. Just as soon as the kiss had begun, it ended. When they broke apart, looking sheepish and more than a bit star-struck, the two people in front of them smiled fondly and waved their hands.

“Don’t act like you’re sorry; we all know you’re not,” the woman, whose name was Ronda, said with an easy laugh. Her husband, Will, agreed wholeheartedly with a smile of his own. He left for a moment and came back with two glasses of wine which he tried to hand over to Bucky and Steve.

“What’s the point of housewarming parties if you’re not able to grab some free food and drinks?”

Steve, with a good natured laugh, responded. “Don’t you think it’s a little early for drinking?” He took the glass anyway.

Will threw his own drink up and cheered loudly.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere!”

The rest of the room apparently agreed. 

. . .

When Steve and Bucky were finally able to find Phil in the back kitchen, they went over the mission. 

“This town is big on hospitality- if you get any invitations, take them,” the agent informed them. “While Rodney is a bit a recluse, it would help if you could at least integrate yourselves into the community. Get as much information as you can without appearing suspicious. We’ll be running our first search in about a week. He has a plane flight to Atlanta on the fourth. We’re setting up the cameras and such that night.”

Bucky saluted him when he heard the stiff instructions. “Got it boss.”

Ignoring him to Bucky’s offense, Phil turned to Steve. “Have you met some of the neighbors yet?”

“The only ones I remember are Felicite Carroll, and Will and Ronda Happel. Will seemed . . . happy to be here.”

Phil smiled a bit when he heard this. “He can be a bit overwhelming, but he means well. As for Ronda, that woman is probably the only thing keeping him grounded, bless her soul.”

After a while of more talk about the mission, Steve and Bucky made to leave. Right when they neared the doorway of the kitchen, Phil called out to them with a smile in his voice. 

“And what’s with the marriage thing? It’s clever, but unexpected.”

Bucky turned back to Phil with a smug grin on his face. 

“It’s a long story.” 

In one fluid movement, Bucky dipped Steve and kissed him, which didn’t end well because 1. Steve is bigger than Bucky and they both ended up falling on the hard tile and 2. because all three of them were laughing too much for the kiss to actually amount to anything.

. . .

That night, as they crawled back into the bed at their hotel, Steve whispered to Bucky in the dark.

“Do you think they believed us, Buck?”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

And neither of them really know what to make of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u tell how much I love writing fake-marriages can you


End file.
